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May 3, 2009 |8:00 a.m.

Easier Done than Said

Jocelyn C. Cadwallader
Pastoral Resident, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Psalm 23
John 10:11–18
1 John 3:16–24

“This, then, is how we’ll know we belong to the truth;
this is how we’ll be confident in God’s presence.”

1 John 3:19a (NRSV)

When we pray to love God perfectly,
Surely, we do not mean only.

Mary Oliver
“What I Said at Her Service”
from Thirst


In our culture, we have this phrase “easier said than done.” Conversations take place, actions are mentioned, and folks use this phrase “easier said than done” to somewhat dismiss the action of the statement. For example, in talking with my friends who are finishing up their semester in school, getting through finals is easier said than done. Whipping up dinner for five on a weeknight when two of the kids have soccer practice and you’ve had a long day at work—easier said than done. Reading through the Bible—easier said than done. Waiting patiently to hear news from the doctor—easier said than done. The Cubs winning the World Series—easier said than done. And often this phrase can pop up in relationships—relationships are often easier said than done. Little children, let us love, let us love. Let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action—easier said than done? Or is it the other way around for that one? Let’s think about that.

Our scripture reading today reminds us of Christ’s greatest commandment: to believe in Jesus, the Good Shepherd, and to love one another. Oftentimes there is a tendency to dismiss this commandment or, at least, our failure of this commandment, as “it’s easier said than done.” And in that case, when we consider loving easier said than done, I think that’s true. Relationships are complicated. He hurt her feelings. She said that about so and so. “Well, so and so wants to do that because it benefits so and so and they’re friends.” “I don’t know why so and so just did that. Doesn’t make sense to me, but, oh well!” Neighborly relationships feel complicated. They sometimes feel “easier said than done.”

But then I was cooking dinner the other night, and a song came on from one of my favorite folk artists. The song is called “Pendulum Swinger” and the band is the Indigo Girls. The song speaks to a more political climate, women’s empowerment, the need for change, for the pendulum to swing, but the main line and theme of the song is “the epicenter love is the pendulum swinger.” That line got in my head. So I think about this text again, about this commandment, and now I’m not so sure our old adage applies to the love talked about in our texts today. I think, in fact, that perhaps the love we are called to have for one another is easier done than said.

Let me see if I can break this down. We as Christians are called to love one another. Now God loves us. There’s nothing we can do to stop, impede, hinder, or disturb that. God loves us. And in response to the love that God has for us, we are able to love one another. It is not our love to give; it is God’s, and we reap the benefits of expressing that love. We might not always know how to, but we have that gift. It is in us, whether we are able to recognize it or not.

So to love one another, it’s not that difficult. Well, it doesn’t have to be. When we think of loving our neighbor, it doesn’t have to be that difficult. I don’t believe Jesus is calling us all to love one another in the sense that we must get to know one another, get to know every person we encounter, agree with one another, be on each other’s side, be in each other’s lives intimately. I believe we are called to recognize one another and the commonality of humanity that we share. We do not all believe in the same things; we do not all have the same experiences. We might not have anything more in common with one another other than the fact that we are both human, and it is in recognizing that that we are able to love one another.

So how do we allow the pendulum to swing? How might we be able to love one another and it be easier done than said? Barbara Brown Taylor, in her new book An Altar in the World, discusses the practice of encountering others, the practice of loving others. Perhaps this might help us understand how to swing our pendulum: she says,

Like the practices of paying attention, wearing skin, walking on the earth, and getting lost, this spiritual practice requires no special setting, no personal trainer, no expensive equipment. It can be done anywhere, by anyone who resolves to do it. A good way to warm up is to focus on one of the human beings who usually sneak right past you because they are performing some mundane service such as taking your order or handing you your change.

A couple of years ago, I had taken a long road trip with four of my friends to North Carolina. I won’t go into all the details that made our typically thirteen hour trip back from North Carolina to Chicago twenty-one hours—that story can be for another time—but during those twenty-one hours, in the midst of our talking, laughing, singing, and sweating (this was also the Fourth of July weekend, with five of us in a Mazda Protégé), we found ourselves talking about tollbooth operators. Someone shared with us a fact about how being a tollbooth operator is one of the loneliest jobs. I hadn’t realized this, but it makes sense. They see people all shift long, have interactions with hundreds, if not thousands, of people, and they average about five words per person. Oftentimes, it’s the same five words: “Hi.” “Eighty cents.” “Thank you.” I can see how that might get lonely. Seeing people all day long and not really being seen by them.

It’s not that difficult to love our neighbor. As Barbara Brown Taylor suggests, try recognizing the tollbooth operator, the cashier at the grocery store, the barista at your local coffee shop. This person has more of a story to them. You don’t need to invite them over for dinner; you don’t need to inquire about their troubles or their joys. It’s a simple recognition of their presence. And your presence is recognized as well. Easier done than said: little children, love one another.

And what about loving those you do know? Those you are in community with? Oftentimes we do believe it is easier said than done to love one another, even here in the church. We are a community of believers; we tend to have more things in common than just our humanity. In fact, most likely people come because there is a shared faith in Christ, a shared faith in a God who loves and lives. Could that make it more difficult for us to love one another? In some ways, yes, it seems to. We all come with different understandings, different experiences, different beliefs in that God. And our humanity, our upbringing, our conditioning as Americans living in a cynical world, call it human nature—whatever the reason, we often translate “different” as “suspect,” something to fear or, at the very least, be hesitant to approach, and consider “trust” as something earned and needed before opening the heart.

It is typically the case that people don’t often trust the intentions of other people. Even if a person acts out of good intention, out of love, but seems too giving or too different, the person is often questioned about motives. For example, I’m a Lost fan. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the TV show Lost and might be interested in becoming a fan, don’t worry; this is not a major spoiler alert. The plot of the show begins with a group of people getting stranded on an island as the result of a plane crash. Several seasons of amazing plot twists and turns and action take place. One of those twists being some of the survivors have an opportunity to get off the island (or so they think). In one episode, several of the characters are in a helicopter, heading towards a freighter, all with high hopes of getting off the island and going home. One of the characters (Sawyer) whispers a request to another one of the characters (Kate) just before he jumps out of the helicopter in hopes the others would survive (there was a leak of gasoline and the weight was too much and he sacrificed himself for the sake of his friends’ survival). Of course we, the audience, are not privy to the request until seasons later when Kate follows through with the promise she made when she goes to the home of Sawyer’s ex-girlfriend and his daughter to check on them for him and make sure they are taken care of. You see, I believe Sawyer’s intentions were good and out of love. He had changed on the island and learned to care. He was genuinely concerned for their well-being. His ex-girlfriend hadn’t known of that growth, however, and therefore questioned Kate’s message and refused to accept his genuine care for their well-being. And instantly Kate’s mind was changed about Sawyer as well. She, who was once in love with Sawyer on the island, had her mind easily changed because of fear or difference in experience that had been presented to her.

For us, in community, trust and love tend to be interchanged and often intertwined. We must feel like we can trust one another before we can love one another. Because we become so arrogant to believe that the love we possess and have to give is only of ourselves, a gift of only ourselves, we become protective of it. We guard it, and we do not distribute our love unless we are sure that it will be received, respected, that it will be appreciated by the other. We do not want our hearts to be hurt, to be broken. The fear of our love not being appreciated drives our need to trust before loving; our own hearts condemn us.

In this process to loving, we often first approach each other with doubt. Then we earn one another’s trust, a process of questions, of discerning, of testing. And then, when we feel we can trust, we love. Kate and Sawyer were still in the earning trust stage when doubt was thrown into Kate’s mind about him. With this process, with this approach to love, it certainly is easier said than done to love one another.

Which makes me wonder, is this the approach to love that the scriptures are encouraging us to take? Let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action and by this we will know that we are from the truth—is this how we might have boldness before God? What does it mean for us to love another? I’m not so sure, and perhaps it really is easier done than said.

It seems to me that our scripture lessons are encouraging us to—instead of going through the arduous process of earning trust before opening the heart—simply love first with God’s love. Instead of assuming hurt as we protect what love we think we can give on our own, we might assume God’s love to give and be boldly confident in love before God. Instead of assuming that different is suspect, perhaps we might assume that there might be new perspective into who God is. When we pass the tollbooth operator, instead of assuming that is their only status in life and one undeserving of a simple hello and look in the eye, assume they are more. When we come into the church, instead of assuming there are politics at hand, there are agendas in mind, assume the other is there to love God and you. In community, I know, it is hard. Our nature doesn’t lend itself to loving first and loving well. If it did, I’m sure there wouldn’t be so much instruction in the scriptures as to how to do it.

But our lesson today shares with us that we are released from the pressure of having to earn trust, from the process of discerning if the other is worthy, because it is not our own love that we have to distribute. It is God’s. It is our Good Shepherd’s, and we are confident that God loves all.

Must we agree with one another? Believe the same things? Make or hope people believe what we as individuals believe? No, I don’t think so. Perhaps in addition to the frustration that might accompany the struggle to find conversation, to find some common ground across the meal table, we might also include in that list of questions, “If you don’t believe what I do, and you haven’t experienced what I have, then what is your experience of God? And how might my journey be informed by that?”

Now, keep in mind, I said, “informed” not “conformed.” Each of us come into the community with different understandings of God, and it is our blessing that we might share that with one another. It’s not about changing each other’s minds. It’s not about one being more right or better than the other. Simply it is to release ourselves of the burden of focusing on ourselves and to share the experience of God that we have as individuals for the benefit of the community.

Martha understands God is just. Peter believes that God is. John believes God is love. Perhaps it is in our initial understanding of God that our methods, our understanding, our approach to community then is informed by that.

Martha comes to community and believes it is good to be judging, to hold people accountable to their faith, to seek to be good according to the law. John comes to the community to love, to love as each is, to let people know that they are loved, that he loves them, that God loves them. And Peter comes to the community with his questions, with his journey of searching and picking up bits of information along the way because that may just be who God is.

And what we find as a community are different and needed approaches to know more of God. Each of them is right and good, and none have the full answer. That’s why they need one another, why we need one another. And by loving one another, recognizing one another, we inform one another.

Barbara Brown Taylor shares that “the wisdom of the Desert Fathers includes the wisdom that the hardest spiritual work in the world is to love the neighbor as the self—to encounter another human being not as someone you can use, change, fix, help, save, enroll, convince, or control, but simply as someone who can spring you from the prison of yourself, if you will allow it.” Each one of us is different. We have had different experiences, and we have different personalities. And our scriptures remind us that we are free to release ourselves from the burden of discerning whether or not the other is trustworthy, whether or not the other is deserving enough. Whether we’ve known one another for a moment or for years, perhaps we might approach our neighbor, each other, as commanded. Approaching one another in love first, recognizing God’s love—perhaps it is easier done than said. Amen.

Sermon © Fourth Presbyterian Church

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